


A Lovely Party

by wtf_dk



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Biting, Blood Kink, Breeding Kink, Come Inflation, Dirty Talk, Gangbang, Knotting, M/M, Multi, Mutual Non-Con, Objectification, Other, Overstimulation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Size Kink, Werewolf Sex, forced to fuck
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-15
Updated: 2020-09-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:35:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26470480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wtf_dk/pseuds/wtf_dk
Summary: This is where I direct you to the tags, because...yeah. Not much else to say, honestly, except that you should add "non-consensual" as a prefix to every tag that doesn't already have it. There are many things in this story, but consent is not one of them.There may be some brief scenes involving Alistair, Zevran, and/or Sten fucking Surana, but I'm not 100% sure yet. Even if there are, they'll be a minor enough part of the story that it doesn't feel right to add them to the relationship tags. Otherwise, we'll see where the story takes me, and feel free to join me for the ride! :)Un-beta'd and mostly unedited, sorry!
Relationships: Desire Demon(s)/Male Surana (Dragon Age), Male Surana (Dragon Age)/Other(s), Male Surana (Dragon Age)/Werewolves
Comments: 3
Kudos: 28





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> No commitments on when I'll update, but I don't think there's enough of a plot for it to make a difference. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

Surana doesn't even realize the demon is there, not at first.

In his defense, a pack of werewolves is very distracting, and fighting them is worse. They move too quickly to count, darting out of the shadows to attack before disappearing back into the trees, but he thinks there are half a dozen of them, not counting the one dead at Sten's feet. It's almost impossible to take aim, and the werewolves seem to know the exact dimensions of every shadow and bit of cover.

There are plenty of shadows for them to use, too, full moon or not. Here under the trees, the only light is the wisp Surana summoned when he first heard Alistair shout, and that's barely enough to illuminate a few feet around them. Thank the Maker Alistair was the one on watch when the attack came; he might not be the most brilliant offensive fighter, but it's almost impossible for anyone to get through his guard. The fact that he could stay alive against half a dozen werewolves he could barely see will impress Surana just as soon as they're not about to die. It's all that's keeping them alive now, if Surana is honest: no one sleeps in their armor, which means Alistair is the only one wearing more than boots and trousers.

Another werewolf darts from the shadows to swipe at Zevran, who dodges with a snort of derision, as if the attack was so poorly done that he can't help himself. Despite everything, Surana smiles as he sends shards of ice at the werewolf's retreating back, then smiles wider when the spell connects in a blast of cold that stops the werewolf in its tracks.

It's Zevran's turn to leap forward, but to Surana's surprise, he stops dead a foot away from his target.

"Zevran-" he starts, only to have his throat lock up before he can finish.

"I think that's quite enough of that," an amused voice says from somewhere above their heads. "I wouldn't want to see anyone else get hurt."

Surana tries to look around, but his body is as frozen as his voice. The best he can do is scan his current field of vision, which shows him nothing except his companions and several werewolves, all as motionless as he is.

"There's no need to fight like this." The voice is closer than it was, but Surana still can't see the speaker. "Wouldn't you rather do something far more fun?"

Magic washes over them, and Surana shrugs it off without trying to examine it. He doesn't need to know what it is to know he doesn't want it anywhere near him.

The others, apparently, weren't able to do the same. They're shaking off their paralysis with jerky movements, sheathing their weapons and taking off their helmets rather than attacking the nearest werewolf. Zevran's is the only face Surana can see, and his gaze is unfocused, his pupils unnaturally wide.

The werewolves stagger out of the shadows, but they don't attack, either. They do nothing except stand there, blinking in the light like they just woke up, eyes as dark as Zevran's. Even when the light doubles, they don't flinch from it.

At the edge of his peripheral vision, Surana can see a second wisp floating up to join his, right before his own is snuffed out like a candle. It's a small enough spell that the snap of it breaking is only a slight sting; what makes Surana's heart pound is the immense power so casually on display. A spell capable of controlling almost a dozen people for more than a moment requires more magic than could be wielded by any three mages Surana has met.

Soft fingers brush the nape of his neck, so unexpected he would recoil if he wasn't still frozen in place. His skin twitches and prickles, his hair trying to stand on end, and it tries harder as the demon steps into his line of sight.

Even without the power rippling in the air around it, Surana would know what he was looking at. Its face is too perfectly matched to his tastes, as if someone looked inside his head and copied what they found line for line. Bait on a hook, and knowing that doesn't stop a faint thread of desire from winding its way through the fear and anger.

"You resist me," the demon says. It smiles at him, all the more terrifying for the seemingly-authentic warmth in its unnaturally beautiful face. "How fascinating. No one's managed that in quite some time."

The paralysis that has hold of Surana extends through his whole body: he can't so much as narrow his eyes or curl his lip in response.

"But just between the two of us," the demon says, dropping its voice to a conspiratorial whisper, "you may have cause to regret that in a moment or two."

Surana glares as best he can when he can't move.

The demon touches his face with gentle fingers, stroking his cheek and along his jaw like a lover. It leans in at the same time, and the warm summer breeze carries a faint, sweet scent to Surana's nose, a spice he can't name but would taste if he could. His cock is definitely in favor of tasting. His rational mind is in favor of running away screaming.

Since he's still paralyzed, neither one is an option. All he can do is stand there, while the demon traces the curve of his ear up to the pointed tip and smiles in delighted anticipation.

"You know what I am," the demon says. "And you know what feeds me. Sustains me."

Other than knowing the creature for a demon, Surana honestly hadn't given the rest of it any thought, but as soon as he does, he knows. Worse, he thinks he knows where this is going, and cold fear runs through him.

"Yes," the demon says. Its fingers are trailing back and forth across his lower lip now. "While you are, of course, welcome to continue to fight me, I would rather you enjoyed yourself. So much better for both of us, don't you think?"

Whatever magic has hold of him, it must disconnect his mind from his body rather than truly paralyze him, because the demon's fingers slide easily into his mouth. They taste and feel like any other fingers he's licked or sucked--no claws, no scales, no extra joints--and his body reacts instinctively, lust mixing with fear to make his stomach churn.

The demon's thumb pushes against the underside of his chin, the fingers in his mouth pressing down at the same time so the demon can turn his head slightly to one side. It gives him a clear view of what's happening with the others, and fear nearly becomes terror. Alistair is half out of his armor, Sten helping with frantic movements that are nothing like his usual calm, and Zevran is completely naked, on his knees with his mouth around a werewolf's cock. He has another werewolf's cock in one hand, and he's working both with enthusiasm that borders on desperation.

"Now then," the demon says. Surana can't turn back to look at it--even if the spell wasn't holding him, he's not sure he could tear his eyes away from Zevran--but he can hear the same warm smile in its voice. "In just a little while, someone will notice that you only have me for company and decide to solve that problem. I'm sure you can guess what will happen from there."

Surana doesn't need to guess when the answer is right in front of him. Alistair has shed the last of his armor and started on his boots, and Sten is now naked and reaching for the werewolf that just finished shredding his clothes for him.

The demon gives a happy sigh. "Such a lovely party, and so much more fun than killing each other, don't you think?"

_I think I want to be sick._

That feeling only gets stronger as the demon pulls its fingers from his mouth and steps back. The magic that's been holding him in place changes, moving his body against his will and forcing him to sit on the ground. He tries to fight, but all he succeeds in doing is upsetting his balance and falling the last few inches to land half on his side. His body straightens itself out immediately and begins unlacing his boots, despite all Surana's attempts to regain control.

"In case it wasn't clear," the demon says, "you _will_ be joining in. The only choice you have is whether you enjoy it as much as your friends."

Surana can no more spit than he can anything else, but he curses at the demon in his head and hopes it can hear him. Just the words, though: please, Maker, let it not hear the terror trying to shred the last of his control.

Magic lashes out, and he flinches internally even if his body doesn't react. There's no pain, though, just a quick series of sharp snaps, and then something thumps down to his left, heavy enough to make the ground tremble. More crashing and snapping follow, though everyone else is too occupied to look up.

When the noise settles, Surana concentrates on his peripheral vision from a combination of curiosity and dread. That might simply have been a display of the demon's power to remind him how outmatched he is, but somehow, he doesn't think so. So far, the demon hasn't seemed to care one way or another if he acknowledges how completely in its control he is.

It's a tree, he realizes eventually, and a large one. As it fell, it took out all the smaller trees in its path, in a cascade that's ripped open the canopy to let moonlight flood down on them. Which makes no sense: the demon is more than capable of creating additional wisps if what it wanted was more light, for considerably less effort. Taking down an entire tree required not only the power to knock it over but also the power to control its fall. Why go to so much trouble for-

Oh.

Understanding hits, and Surana wishes he could close his eyes, if only for a moment. It wasn't more light the demon was interested in.

He can't close his eyes, though, and the demon is directly in his line of sight, standing hipshot and smiling down as if it knows everything he's thinking. He can't close his eyes, and he can't stop his body from wriggling free of his trousers, and he can't look away from the demon as its form shifts. When it's done, its previously androgynous form now has a cock, large enough Surana knows it will hurt to be fucked by anyone who isn't very careful. Somehow, he doesn't think the demon will be careful.

For the first time, Surana is glad he doesn't have control of his body: his breathing is slow and steady, not the harsh panting it would be if it could reflect everything in his head right now. The demon almost certainly knows he's afraid, but at least he can pretend otherwise as his body crawls across the ground to the fallen tree, then stands long enough to drape itself over the trunk. With his feet spread, he's barely tall enough to actually lie down: if he was a few inches shorter, he wouldn't be able to bend forward enough to put his ass in the air. As it is, the trunk is thick enough to support his chest and head, only his arms dangling on the far side. In other circumstances it might be--almost--comfortable.

In the current circumstances, it's terrifying.

Surana tries to focus on something other than what's about to happen. The bark of the tree is rough against his skin, and the leaf litter under his feet is cool and damp. Think about the smell of rotting leaves, and the rock under his left heel, and the way his hair is tickling the back of one ear.

The demon presses up against him from behind, skin a little warmer than normal. It lets the shaft of its cock rest between the cheeks of his ass, moving it up and down in small thrusts that don't seem intended to accomplish anything except remind Surana it's there. As if he was going to forget. There isn't a pebble in the world large enough or sharp enough, despite his best efforts.

"Since you seem so reluctant to give in," the demon says, "allow me to enumerate the advantages of resistance, as opposed to the advantages of surrender."

 _Please shut up,_ Surana thinks at it, defiant but also more afraid than he's been since his Harrowing. _Shut up, and get it over with._

"If you surrender," the demon says, "I promise it will only hurt if you want it to. In fact, it will be everything you want."

Surana isn't so lost to fear that he doesn't see the gap in the demon's promise: what happens will be everything he wants now, but that doesn't mean it will be anything he wanted before, or anything he would want if the demon didn't have control over him.

"When it's over, it will be over," the demon goes on. "I have no interest in thralls, and you would be a particularly troublesome one anyway. Tonight I feast, and such a feast as this will satisfy me for months."

Another gap in its promises: maybe it doesn't want them as thralls, but it could still kill them.

"Why would I kill you?" the demon asks, amused. "You're no threat to me, and perhaps in the future, you might even provide me another feast."

They're certainly no threat to it, that's plain enough. Bent over the tree trunk as he is, he can't see what else is happening, but he can hear moans of pleasure and the slap of skin against skin and the wet sound of someone's cock being sucked.

"To summarize," the demon says, "if you surrender, you won't be hurt, you'll experience pleasure few mortals have the opportunity to know, and you'll be free to go on your way tomorrow. If you resist, well..." There's a shrug in its voice. "I suppose you could claim it was a moral victory."

Surana would be shaking, if he had any control over his body, and a little voice in the back of his head points out that the demon is right. He silences it, but too late. The idea is out, knocking against the inside of his skull like the clapper of a bell.

The demon leans forward to kiss the back of his neck, as gentle as the sweetest lover he's ever had, then murmurs in his ear, "Time to decide. Surrender now, and get everything I've promised. Surrender later, and get nothing, not even your moral victory." It kisses him again, a series of small kisses as it works its way along his hairline so it can whisper in his other ear, "I won't make the offer again, but I will make it easy on you."

Its magic surges through him, the same spell he shrugged off before but stronger this time, all the power that was spread over a dozen people now targeted only at him. It pushes into him, shoving its way by brute force through shields and protections, forcing its way into his mind despite his attempts to close himself off. Maybe if he put all his will behind it, he could do it, but that voice is back, reminding him of what success means in this situation. He wants to silence the voice again, pretend he never even considered giving up, but in that moment, he can only think that success looks very much like failure.

And surrender is so very easy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That was the closest we get to plot. It's all smut from here on out.


	2. Chapter 2

The difference is immediate and breathtaking. Fear evaporates in a rush of pleasure that hardens his cock almost instantly, and when the demon's cock presses against his hole, he wants it the way he's wanted nothing else in his life. Like the demon promised, there's no pain as it pushes in, just the slick slide of its cock filling him, forcing his hole wider in the best possible way.

When it's all the way inside, the demon nuzzles the back of his ear, one hand stroking up and down his side. Surana shivers in anticipation, his skin twitching but the rest of his body still not under his control. That's the only thing missing, now: he wants to be able to arch into the demon's touch, to fuck himself on its cock and beg for more.

"I do hate to deprive you," the demon says, "and yet, I admit I'm not quite prepared to trust you yet." It grinds its hips against his ass, its cock shifting inside him in ways that make him want to moan. "I think a compromise is in order."

Tendrils of something--roots, maybe?--curl around Surana's wrists and ankles to lock him in place, then the paralysis lifts, allowing him to move however he wants within the range allowed by his bindings. There's not enough slack for him to close his legs, and he still can't touch anything except the tree bark under his hands, but he can push his ass back to meet the demon's thrusts, and he can groan his appreciation when the demon bites his shoulder.

"Isn't that so much better?" it purrs. "And this is only the start, I promise. Give me what I want, and I'll give you more than you would ever have thought possible."

It bites his other shoulder gently, hard enough to twinge for only a moment, and sucks on the skin while it fucks him. It's still playing the part of the sweet, gentle lover, and it never hurts him any worse than an occasional scrape of teeth or small bite. Even when Surana begs it to bite harder, it ignores him, and the worst pain he gets is the bark scratching his chest and face.

The third time Surana begs it to bite him, it's more of a demand, and the demon chuckles. "Patience," it says. "I said I would give you everything you wanted, I didn't say you would get it all immediately." It bites him again, even more gently than before. "For now, you can savor the anticipation."

Surana doesn't want anticipation; he wants teeth and nails leaving marks on his skin while someone pounds his ass brutally hard.

"Soon, soon," the demon promises. "But you'll take my cock first, before anyone else gets to have you."

"Harder," Surana groans.

"Enough talking." The demon sounds amused. "If you insist on using your mouth, then here."

A hand grips his hair and lifts his head, and Surana has just enough time to get a glimpse of furred legs and stomach before a cock pushes between his lips. From this angle, he can only reach a few inches, and he wouldn't even be able to reach that if the werewolf's cock wasn't longer than most of the human and elven cocks Surana has seen. It's not the only difference he notices as he licks and sucks what he can: the skin is smoother than he's used to, the shaft not as hard or as thick, and the few drops of spend that hit his tongue are muskier and more bitter.

"Mm, yes," the demon says approvingly. "He's hoping to be the first to have you when I'm done, you know. I hadn't decided how long I would make him wait." It nips the point of Surana's ear, its breath warm as it whispers, "But now I think I have a better idea."

Surana only groan around the cock in his mouth. Being fucked from two directions at once doesn't leave him much ability to think or understand anything except the fact that the demon still isn't fucking him hard.

"You want more," the demon says, "so I'll give you a chance to earn it: when he comes in your mouth, his friends will fuck you, and not a one of them will be gentle."

It seems an impossible challenge: Surana can reach less than half of the werewolf's cock, and he has neither his hands nor his magic to help. He accepts it anyway, stretching out his neck for whatever extra length that lets him take. The werewolf helps him--probably unknowingly given what the demon said--by thrusting into his mouth as much as possible from their current positions. Surana shuts his eyes to concentrate, licking and sucking and moaning as the demon continues to fuck him in long, slow thrusts.

He comes before the werewolf does, so focused on what he's doing that it blindsides him, giving him half a second to realize what's about to happen before it overwhelms him. It leaves him gasping, shaking, and dazed, shoulders aching where he yanked against his bindings. The werewolf is still driving his cock between his parted lips, the head rubbing over his tongue as he tries to remember how to close his mouth and suck.

"Now wasn't that a lovely sight?" the demon says. For a confused moment, Surana thinks the words are for him, then he realizes they're not for him, they're _about_ him. To the werewolf. "He came just from sucking your cock."

_Also being fucked,_ Surana thinks dizzily. _And demon magic._ Dizzy or not, his thoughts are almost clear, the demon's magic ebbing for a moment.

But in the next, it rolls back over him and swamps any attempt at rational thought, to such an extent that Surana is glad for it. All he wants is the heat that makes his skin prickle and his cock stiffen, heat he builds higher by sucking on the cock fucking his mouth. His lips and tongue are still a little uncoordinated, but he does his best.

"Look how much he wants it," the demon says. Still talking to the werewolf, Surana assumes. "So desperate for your cock. Don't you want to give it to him? Watch his mouth take all of it until you come?"

Surana can't help it: he groans at the words, even though they aren't meant for him.

"See how eager he is?" the demon asks. Its voice is low and hypnotic, weaving magic that leaves Surana aching even though he's only catching the edges of a spell aimed at someone else. "He wants you to come in his mouth, you can see how much he wants to swallow everything you can give him." The demon pets Surana's hair, down near the base of his skull. "Don't you, mage?"

To answer in words, Surana would have to stop what he's doing, so he hums an affirmative and nods as enthusiastically as he can with the werewolf's hand in his hair and cock in his mouth.

"Take what you want," the demon murmurs, and Surana has no idea if the words are addressed to him or to the werewolf. "Give him what he wants."

The werewolf is coming before the demon finishes the sentence. The hand in Surana's hair tightens enough to make his eyes water, but he doesn't need to see right now. He's too busy swallowing frantically, trying not to let even a drop escape as the werewolf fucks his mouth in short, jerky thrusts.

Some does escape when the werewolf pulls his cock from Surana's mouth and releases his hair. Surana's head thumps back to the tree trunk painfully hard, and the last of the werewolf's spend runs down his chin. He licks up some of it, but without his hands, he can't reach much.

Hot breath blows across his cheek and someone else licks up what he couldn't, tongue lapping at his chin until every trace is gone. That tongue, unnaturally long and dexterous, licks into his mouth, and sharp teeth press against Surana's lips, scratching him as the werewolf tilts his head back and forth. He tastes every inch of Surana's mouth at least three times over, lapping at Surana's tongue whenever Surana tries to lick his, so their tongues are constantly pushing and rubbing against each other.

The werewolf turns his head the other way, and this time, his teeth cut Surana's lip deep enough to draw blood. It's a small sting, but it goes straight to his cock, and he moans, trying to find the right angle to do it again.

A clawed hand grips the back of his neck to hold him still just as the werewolf bites him. It's a gentle bite, all things considered, but with those teeth, it doesn't need to be rough to draw blood. Surana catches only a hint of the metallic taste before the werewolf licks it all up, his tongue pushing under Surana's and all along the inside of his lips. The bite is deep enough that it doesn't close immediately, and more blood wells up as soon as the werewolf licks away what's there. He licks it all up again and again, and when the bleeding slows, Surana sucks on his lip to re-open the cuts so the werewolf can do it again.

Surana is so lost in the taste of blood and the constant press of the werewolf's tongue against his own, he's forgotten about the demon until it starts to fuck him hard enough to drive his mouth forward against the werewolf's. With each thrust, his lips catch on pointed teeth, sometimes drawing blood and sometimes not. He and the werewolf are both panting--the demon is the only one of them who doesn't seem to be exerting any effort--the werewolf growling and Surana moaning as the demon fucks him. Still not rough, though that might be for the best right now, and the pain in his mouth makes up for it.

When the demon comes, its magic flares, pouring through Surana in a flood of desire so intense he comes, too. He can feel its cock pulsing against his hole, pumping Maker-knows-what into him, and he wonders what it would taste like. He wants to know what it tastes like, wants the demon to take his mouth the way the werewolf did, to come until he can't swallow any more and it spills out for the werewolf to lick up.

The demon pushes itself up without pulling out, one hand on the tree to support its weight and the other rubbing Surana's back as if to soothe him. "Now that I've had my fun," it says smugly, "I believe it's someone else's turn. Someone who won't be nice, wasn't that what you wanted?"

Surana groans and nods, ignoring for the moment the werewolf's growl of annoyance when that breaks the kiss.

"As you wish," the demon says. It pats Surana's hip in a proprietary sort of way and steps back, leaving him bent over and tied in place, with the demon's seed already beginning to drip down his legs.

The werewolf stands only a moment later, and Surana makes his own sound of annoyance, though his groan might be more needy and less demanding than the werewolf's growl.

Warm breath stirs his hair as something cold and wet touches his ear. "I'm not done with you," a low voice rumbles. "I've had your mouth, and I'll have your ass, and when you're writhing on my cock, I'll make sure you get it as rough as I can give."

Surana groans again, but he doesn't get a chance to think of a response: another werewolf has hold of his hips, claws digging in sharply, and unlike the demon, the werewolf doesn't waste any time. He pulls one cheek of Surana's ass to the side to spread him open and uses his other hand to guide his cock to Surana's hole, and that's all the time Surana gets in order to brace himself. The werewolf drives his cock deep in one brutal thrust, his hands once more on Surana's hips to drag them back to meet him.

The werewolf is as rough as the demon was gentle. He pounds into Surana so hard and fast it leaves bruises on his hipbones and scrapes everywhere his skin touches the tree trunk. Within minutes, Surana's nipples hurt from being dragged across the bark, and the abrasion on his cheek might be bleeding; the ones on his wrists definitely are. He solves one of those by turning his face the other way, so his unmarred cheek rests on the tree. The rest he ignores, because they're not really problems. Every part of him stings or aches, and about the time both cheeks have been rubbed raw, the werewolf rakes claws down his back from shoulder to ass, taking the pain to new heights.

Surana comes with a cry, pulling against everything holding him place as his body jerks. The werewolf responds with a growl and grabs his hips again, claws driving in deep as it pins him down. The pain of his claws makes it seem like time is drawing out, each wave of pleasure lasting hours, days, years, until the werewolf leans down, bites him on the muscle between neck and shoulder, and comes in a rush of heat unlike anything Surana has ever felt.

Either Surana comes again, or he's still coming. He doesn't know, doesn't care, doesn't even think about trying to differentiate between the two. The werewolf's cock somehow feels like it's swelling inside him, pressing against all the right places, and his spend is hot enough Surana can feel it flooding into him.

He's sobbing when it's finally over, fingernails digging into the tree bark and his whole body shaking. Too much, too much, and he wants more, but it's too much, but he wants _more_ -

The werewolf releases his shoulder, and the pain jolts Surana out of that spiral. He gulps for air and tries to work up any spit to ease his dry throat, struggling for a moment to do both at the same time before his body remembers how to manage itself. If not for the werewolf's body and the bindings around his wrists, Surana would be in danger of sliding to the ground to simply lie there in a boneless puddle. The idea has a certain appeal, to the parts of his body not completely ruled by the demon's magic.

Which wouldn't be much of it right now, not when he's just been fucked so thoroughly, he still feels like the werewolf's cock is impossibly large inside him. It can't be as large as it feels, because there's no way it would have fit through his hole, but Maker, it feels huge. He holds as still as possible, not wanting to wreck the illusion; it'll be gone soon enough anyway, when the werewolf pulls out.

He doesn't seem in any hurry to do that. He's currently licking the bite on Surana's shoulder, his tongue probing the punctures as if checking them. Surana can feel blood trickling down his neck, but for all the werewolf's uncontrolled violence when it fucked him, the bite doesn't feel too bad. He's had far worse, though never so close to his neck.

The werewolf moves like he's going to straighten up, but when his hips start to pull back, something holds him tight to Surana. From Surana's side, it feels so shockingly strange he gasps, twisting like he'll somehow manage to get away.

"Don't bother," the werewolf says, its tone pure smug satisfaction. "You're not going anywhere."

"What-...?"

"Never seen a dog knot a bitch before?"

Surana recoils, or tries to, but there's nowhere to go. The werewolf has an arm on either side of him, hips pinning his to the tree by sheer weight, never mind the...the knot tying them together. Even without any of that, Surana's wrists and ankles are still bound. He can't close his legs, much less run away.

"Now you're going to pretend you don't want it?" the werewolf asks derisively. "You were ready to beg for it a minute ago."

The idea of knotting isn't new to Surana; he just hadn't realized that was something else werewolves shared with actual wolves. Possibly because, before this moment, he had given no thought at all to how werewolves bred.

"I can smell how much you want it," the werewolf says. He sniffs Surana's hair, breaths short and quick like a hound tracking a scent. At the same time, he rocks his hips to pull his knot against Surana's hole and then push it back in as deep as he can. It sends sparks out to Surana's fingertips, and he can't quite suppress a moan.

"Like that," the werewolf says. "Feels good, doesn't it? I don't need ropes to keep you here, not now. You're stuck until I'm done with you, and when I am? Someone else gets to knot you just like this." He licks Surana's shoulder and the side of his neck, cleaning up the fresh blood that's seeped from the bite mark. "We'll take turns until every one of us has had you, and then maybe some of us will have you again, if we feel like it."

He grinds his hips against Surana's ass, rubbing his knot back and forth. Surana grits his teeth and tries not to make a sound, but the werewolf does it again and again, spikes of pleasure-pain that tighten his nipples and make his cock twitch. He's not going to give in, he's not, no matter how much he wants to twist and make the knot pull harder.

The werewolf grunts, and heat floods Surana again. Less than before, but he was already on the edge, and it doesn't need much to push him over. He comes, his ass clenching around the werewolf's cock and squeezing out another burst of heat that just makes him come harder, as if the knot rubbing inside him wasn't enough to make him see stars.

"Are you still going to try to pretend you hate it?" the werewolf asks. "After you came just from feeling my knot?"

Surana rests his forehead on the tree bark and works on breathing. He's sweating, hot all over from the werewolf's body on top of him and seed inside him, and he's not entirely sure he won't come again if either of them moves.

"You might as well enjoy it," the werewolf tells him. "Because either way, we're going to knot you 'til you're swollen with it." He pushes a hand under Surana to cup his stomach, in case there was the slightest doubt what he meant.

The movement shifts his knot, and Surana clings to control by his fingernails. Not again, not so soon, not when it will make the werewolf's unbearable smugness even worse.

"How many of us will need to fuck you before it starts to show?" The werewolf's smirking tone makes it clear he's baiting Surana, but Surana has other concerns right now. The hand caressing his stomach being one of the most significant. "You're so small, I don't think more than two or three."

Surana lets his mouth open so he can pant silently, but he can't do anything to hide the shudders running through him.

"You'll be huge by the time we're all done." He starts to rub slow, gentle circles on Surana's stomach, like it's already swollen. "And who knows? There's so much magic in this place, maybe something will take."

Surana's throat closes from a combination of nausea and arousal, the nausea made worse as soon as he recognizes the arousal for what it is.

"You like that, too?" The werewolf sounds like he's laughing. "You want your belly all swollen with our pups? None of us would mind knowing our seed took even in someone who isn't built for it."

A hot flush crawls up Surana's body, but the shame only makes his cock harder. He's so close to coming, he doesn't know how he hasn't already, but it's only a matter of time unless he can find a way to drown out the werewolf's voice.

"It would only be a couple months," the werewolf says thoughtfully, "and we'd take good care of you the whole time. Even if we'd let you go, you wouldn't want to. A few weeks from now, everyone would know as soon as they saw you. You're too little to hide it, there'd be nowhere for the pups to go except straight out."

His fingers spread wide on Surana's stomach for a moment, as if measuring it, before he resumes his gentle circles. "If it was a small litter, you might still be able to walk around right up until you were ready to whelp, but a normal litter? You'd be stuck in bed for two or three weeks beforehand. Maybe with some help you could waddle a few feet, but maybe not. Four pups would weigh half what you do, and you'd carry it all right out in front."

The last of Surana's control is slipping away, undercut by every word. He can see himself exactly as the werewolf described, with his stomach so hugely distended it ruins his balance.

"Pups don't lie quiet, either," the werewolf says. "They move and kick long before they're whelped. Not such a problem for someone three times your size, but for you?" He huffs a laugh. "Yeah, never mind, there's no maybe about it: you'd be stuck in bed for at least the last two weeks. And that's for a normal litter, four pups at most. I've seen plenty of litters with six or seven pups, and the largest I ever saw was ten."

That idea is horrifying enough to help Surana hang on. If four pups would be half his weight, then...

"Ten would kill you," the werewolf says casually. "But four? I think you could carry four without too much trouble, since you'd have us there to bring you anything you needed."

The werewolf leans forward to lick the bite mark again, and Surana stops breathing as the knot shifts. _No!_ he begs silently. _No no no no nononono!_

"Do you know why we'd do that?" the werewolf asks in his ear. "Why we'd take such good care of someone who'd struggle with a litter any other bitch could carry easily?"

Surana doesn't miss that word "other," and he grinds his forehead against the bark, desperate for any distraction.

"Most bitches can only breed two or three times a year," the werewolf murmurs. His breath is hot on the back of Surana's neck. "But you? If we can breed you here and now, like this? Then we could breed you whenever we wanted. As soon as you whelped, we'd take turns with you again, knot you until we'd all had you so many times none of us could do it again, even if that took all day."

From somewhere nearby, the demon's magic flares again, and Surana grabs for it. Cowardly or not, weak or not, he wants to go back to that place where shame didn't exist. If he doesn't have a choice about what's being done to him, then at least he can enjoy it.

The werewolf lets his chest press against Surana's back, so heavy Surana can't breathe, and then the knot contracts in another wave of heat, and Surana comes. He arches against the weight pinning him down and moans when the werewolf fucks him with the small amount of leeway the knot allows, sharp little thrusts that spill more of the werewolf's seed into him.

Afterward, Surana feels like he's melting in the heat, his muscles lax and his mind drifting vaguely in no particular direction. The werewolf has taken just enough weight off him to let him breathe, without truly pulling away, and it leaves Surana surrounded on all sides by a hot, furry body. Even his hands are covered, the werewolf's resting on top of his to pin him down that last little bit. As if the bindings on his wrists and ankles, the weight of a werewolf against his back, and the cock knotting him would let him go anywhere.

With his thoughts cut adrift, he doesn't have to do anything except exist, and he likes this existence very much. He's warm, and protected, and completely worn out from coming so hard, so many times in a row. He feels satisfied, and maybe a little smug.

The werewolf shifts his weight--shifts both their weight--so he can once again cup Surana's stomach with one hand. "Not yet," he says, squeezing gently. "But we've only just started."

"Not yet," Surana echoes in sleepy agreement. He rocks his hips idly, humming in pleasure at the small sparks it sends through him. The movement pulls on the knot, squeezing out a little more of the werewolf's seed, and Surana hums again, almost a moan. "Soon?"

"Soon," the werewolf promises. His thumb strokes back and forth, tracing the curves of Surana's ribs. "It's a shame we _can't_ breed you," he says, and he sounds honestly regretful. "We'd keep you so full, you'd forget what it was like to have your belly this flat. It'd be full of pups until you whelped, and then full of our seed until we got another litter on you, and in between we'd keep you knotted as often as possible. The pack would grow, and you'd love every minute of it, wouldn't you?"

Surana groans and nods, bumping his head against the werewolf's muzzle. It's an accident, but he does it again deliberately, pushing the top of his head under the werewolf's chin like a cat asking to be petted.

"I'd like to see that," the werewolf says. "You knotted on my cock with your belly so big you can't sit up without help." This time when he squeezes Surana's stomach, his claws leave behind burning lines that make Surana buck under him. "That, too? You want to be marked with my claws?"

"Please," Surana begs. He braces his feet and pushes back as best he can, letting claws drag over his skin while the knot drags against something inside him that shocks away the sleepiness.

As quick as that, he's wide awake and eager for more of everything. He fucks himself on the werewolf's knot, tilting his hips forward to let it stretch his hole before leaning back to drive it as deep as he can. The knot is still too big to slide free, and Surana lets it stretch him just to the point of pain on each stroke. He likes the sting, but more than that, he likes that the werewolf likes it: every time his knot is pulled hard against Surana's hole, the werewolf's hands flex, claws digging in to the tree bark and the skin of Surana's belly. He comes nearly every other thrust, his seed filling Surana in steady pulses, until his knot as shrunk to the point where it slips out.

The werewolf rams his hips forward and jerks Surana's back at the same time, shoving his knot back in. "I'm not done with you yet," he growls into Surana's hair. "You'll take every drop before I let anyone else have you."

"Sorry!" Surana gasps. "Sorry, I didn't mean to, I want it, I want all of it, please!"

"Oh, you'll get all of it," the werewolf says, but his grip loosens a little. "You'll get more than you can take before we're done."

"I can take all of it," Surana says, and when the werewolf snorts, he adds stubbornly, "I can!"

"I want to watch you try," the werewolf says. He pushes a hand into Surana's hair to pull his head to one side, baring the side of his neck already marked with the werewolf's teeth. Surana is expecting another bite--he wants another bite--but the werewolf only licks the existing one, thoroughly. Every few passes of his tongue, he buries his nose in Surana's hair and growls as he comes again, then returns to cleaning the wound.

Between the pain and the heat filling him, Surana comes once more, and he's on the edge of coming a second time when the werewolf abruptly straightens and steps back, his cock slipping free.

Surana gives a small cry of protest at the loss: of the werewolf's cock, of the spend already dripping out of him, of the climax that was so close but is now gone.

That cry cuts off abruptly as another warm, furred body presses up against him from behind. After a moment of fumbling, a cock slides into him, and someone begins to fuck him, almost as roughly as the first werewolf.

And this is definitely not the same one: the growls are a little higher, the hands larger and the shoulders narrower. This one can't cover Surana entirely, but his cock feels so good, Surana forgets there was someone else about the time he comes in shuddering gasps. The werewolf snarls in his ear and comes at almost the same time, his knot thickening quickly.

Afterward, Surana lies across the tree trunk in a languid sprawl, drunk on pleasure and the stinging pain of the werewolf's claws. The one time he tries to move, the werewolf grips the back of his neck in strong jaws, teeth piercing the skin but no more. Surana recognizes the threat easily, and he doesn't try to move again, either to hinder or help.

Otherwise, the werewolf doesn't try to communicate at all. He spends himself in quick bursts, only a brief pause between each, fucking Surana like Surana means nothing to him. Which is probably true, and Surana comes at the realization, whimpering.

The third werewolf bites him for real, as deep as the first one did but on the other side, so that pain shoots up Surana's neck no matter which way he turns his head. By the time that one is finished, Surana has a new set of claw marks on each thigh to match the ones already on his back. Blood runs down the outside of his thighs while spend runs down the inside, dripping onto the leaves at his feet.

"Are you enjoying my party?" someone asks in his ear.

For a moment, the words are meaningless sound, and even once Surana picks them apart, he struggles to remember how to talk. His mouth is bone dry, his muscles completely exhausted, and his skin twitches from pain and the fading ripples of his most recent climax.

"Ah, good," the demon says, as if Surana had managed to speak. "But I see someone was a little overly enthusiastic in their appreciation of you." A hand strokes his back and leaves unbroken skin in its wake, despite Surana's attempts to shrug it off as soon as he realizes what's happening.

"Do stop that," the demon chides him. "Someone else will be happy to mark you again, but as a thoughtful host, I want to give them...hm." It pauses while it cups first one side of Surana's neck and then the other, erasing the bite marks as thoroughly as it's erased everything else. "Let's say I want to give them a clean canvas to work from. There's a certain satisfaction in seeing you decorated like this, but there's also something to be said for being the first to make you bleed again."

The demon's fingers trail up the inside of Surana's thigh and between the cheeks of his ass to tease his hole. Surana doesn't know how many fingers it fucks him with, but it's enough to sting even after everything else. He pushes his ass back against the pressure, and the demon holds its hand still, allowing him to fuck himself until he comes. When he's done, the demon pulls its fingers out slowly, wiggling them back and forth while Surana groans weakly.

But as soon as it's taken its hand back, the demon finishes closing up the cuts on the outside of Surana's thighs with disconcertingly brisk efficiency. "Doesn't that feel better?" it asks with every sign of genuine solicitude. "I wouldn't want you too exhausted to enjoy yourself, especially so early."

Early? Part of Surana clutches eagerly at the word, and part of him blinks in consternation. Demon magic or no, how many more times can he come before it's all too much and any touch hurts? He's already long past anything he's ever experienced, even with the combined magic of a group of apprentice mages more full of lust than sense. That had been fun, and exhilarating. This is so far beyond that, he doesn't have a word for it.

The demon kisses the back of his neck and down to the base of his spine, before it retreats. Surana feels its absence starkly, suddenly lonely despite the sounds of people enjoying themselves all around him. The moans and small cries and slap of skin on skin makes him more aware that none of that is happening to him.

"Don't worry," the demon says. "I haven't forgotten you. I simply have to decide who should get you next." It hums thoughtfully, than gives a small "ha!" like it's thought of something. "Yes, that will do nicely."

Surana turns his head toward the sound of its voice, but with his wrists still bound, he can't see it or who it's looking at.

"Patience," the demon says, smile audible. "Patience."

As if Surana has a choice.


End file.
